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"Some of Susie's friends have married much vulgarer people than me." he pleaded.

​"Than I," said Mrs. Rolles.

Bevans sighed, and began what seemed to be an effort to dig his toe permanently into the rug. "You don't seem to attach the least importance to Susie's affection for me."

Mrs. Rolles smiled. "Shall I be perfectly candid?" she asked.

It is a question at which the stoutest heart sinks, which every one would like to answer in the negative, but to which good usage seems to demand that an enthusiastic affirmative be given.

"Good Lord!" cried Bevans, "is there still worse to come?"

There was. "The truth is," said Mrs. Rolles, "that Susie's feelings are not deep. She never has and I don't believe she ever will care deeply for any one. Now, I don't mean by that that she is a cold, calculating villain. Quite the contrary. She is kind, unselfish, and in her own way affectionate, only no one matters very much to her. Her nurses, her teachers, her friends have always loved her better than she loved them. She accepts their love as a sort of natural responsibility. I really believe, in my own way, I like you better than she does—shall miss you more when you stop coming here."